


all we can do is keep breathing

by aletterinthenameofsanity



Series: if this love is pain (then darling let's love tonight) [1]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Male Character, Extended Metaphors, Homelessness, I PROMISE A HAPPY ENDING I SWEAR, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, MILAN WILL ADOPT ALL THE KIDS, POV Sander, POV Second Person, ROBBE HAS THREE PARENTS AND NOW SO WILL SANDER, Referenced Gay Bashing, can't wait for this to get majorly jossed by canon, dragging out the cold metaphors and later realizing the jack frost implications?, found families are the best families, i just want the boys to be happy and healing and loved, that's me, ya girl, you all know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-16 10:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21506485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity
Summary: You haven’t been warm since you were eight, when your father left your mother and your mother left you with bruises and you left your house for the foster care system.You spent so many years cold. So many years unloved.-You’re so scared, and so cold, and you love Robbe so much it feels like a supernova exploding in your chest, and you know-You know you’ll break him. You know you’ll make him cold. Because how could a love like yours do anything but burn and break someone?Robbe was left bruised and beaten and curled up on the cobblestones, just because he dared to kiss you.You don’t want to hurt him. You don’t want to see him cry. Not Robbe. Never Robbe.-But in the cold night air, three nights after you were kicked out, curled up on a bench that’s become your bed, you turn 18. You’re officially an adult, now.The clock hits 21:21- the time you were born- and your eyes fill with tears. You don’t want to freeze. You want to be warm again.(Sander's been living with Britt since running away from his foster home, and things go up in smoke pretty quickly. Sander soon finds a new home, though.)
Relationships: Milan Hendrickx & Sander Driesen, Robbe Ijzermans/Sander Driesen
Series: if this love is pain (then darling let's love tonight) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550230
Comments: 12
Kudos: 241
Collections: Skam Belgium (Wtfock) ▶ Sander Driesen / Robbe Ijzermans





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petitepeach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petitepeach/gifts), [themoongirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoongirl/gifts).



> Title is from "Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michaelson.
> 
> Listen I got real into all of the Skam Remakes sometime early last week and I've already gone through OG, France, and Druck and am currently clinging to wtFock, knowing that it won't fuck me over but still having my heart cut to pieces in the meantime. I have so many fucking theories for Sander right now and I haven't written a fanfic in a few months (been working on homework and my own novel) but just started writing and couldn't stop. So, here you all go- I honestly can't wait to see it overturned within the next few weeks, but it's what I got in the meantime.
> 
> Also, I wrote this in like maybe two hours so please forgive spelling/editing mistakes.
> 
> Nearly entirely written to "Wait" by M83, with a bit of "Keep Breathing" at the end, when things start going better.

_You were alone, left out in the cold_

_Clinging to the ruin of your broken home_

_Too lost and hurting to carry your load_

_We all need someone to hold_

_**-Vancouver Sleep Clinic, Someone To Stay** _

You don’t really remember being warm, do you?

Well, actually, you do. Because you were, for a bit, with Robbe. In that freezing cold pool, in his bed, in that bar- you felt warm. You felt loved.

You shiver as you kiss Britt, because she’s not warm. Or, well, her touch is warm but your bones feel frozen under her hands, and you almost feel like crying.

-

You haven’t been warm since you were eight, when your father left your mother and your mother left you with bruises and you left your house for the foster care system.

You spent so many years cold. So many years unloved. So many years in which the system did nothing but put a roof over your head.

-

You’ve been technically homeless for a year, now. Crashing at Britt’s place, ever since you ran away from your last foster family- a family that fell more on the outright abusive side of the neglect line, once they caught wind of your sexuality from some kid in the neighborhood.

Britt’s not a bad person. She really isn’t. She’s been through some shit in her time and she let you stay with her and you’re thankful for that.

She’s not exactly the nicest person in the world, that’s true. She’s prickly and fickle and sharp and she doesn’t always understand your nightmares or the reason why you sometimes flinch away from casual touches or the way you’re way too jaded to violence for someone your age.

But you’re grateful for her, anyway. She gave you somewhere to stay.

-

You’re so scared, and so cold, and you love Robbe so much it feels like a supernova exploding in your chest, and you know- 

You know you’ll break him. You know you’ll make him cold. Because how could a love like yours do anything but burn and break someone?

Robbe was left bruised and beaten and curled up on the cobblestones, just because he dared to kiss you. 

You don’t want to hurt him. You don’t want to see him cry. Not Robbe. Never Robbe.

-

Robbe calls you, asking what you want to do, and you can barely keep from crying at the bruises on his face.

You know the police won’t help. They never have. They just shuttled you from one abusive home to another neglectful foster family down a chain of families that never loved you, never made you feel warm, never fucking cared.

You say “I love you” like the word _goodbye_ , because you know that’s all there will ever be. A goodbye between you and the boy you love.

And then you run away, just as you always ran away, and you’re still running-

-

Breaking up with Britt would mean losing your only place to stay, you know that. You know that like you know how charcoal dust stains under your fingernails, like you know the lyrics to “Under Pressure,” like you know how utterly beautiful of a mural Robbe would make.

And yet- you tell her, anyway. You break up with her, because you can’t handle this lie.

Britt kicks you out of the house when you two break up, when you tell her why you don’t love her anymore, only the day after you two kissed at that party and posted those photos that you know Robbe saw.

And now, you’re not just “technically” homeless- you’re literally homeless. A drifter. A man without even a roof over your head.

You sleep in the skatepark for a couple of nights, trying to figure out what to do. Where to stay. You have no home now- you haven’t for years. You haven’t since you were a kid.

You keep up appearances- somewhat- by still going to school. You use the showers in the gym there and you smile at your classmates and you pretend like you’re not slowly freezing from the inside out.

In the meantime, you don’t have the money for more than a meal, a day, and you’re trying to make it stretch. The lack of food and bad living conditions certainly aren’t helping your bruises heal, after all.

Figure this out, somehow, or you’ll get kicked out of the skatepark and have no place to sleep or you’ll run out of food to eat or you’ll freeze to death.

-

In the cold night air, three nights after you were kicked out, curled up on a bench that’s become your bed, you turn 18. You’re officially an adult, now.

The clock hits 21:21- the time you were born- and your eyes fill with tears. You don’t want to freeze. You want to be warm again, someday.

-

You knock on Robbe’s door the next day, heart in your throat, ice in your veins. You don’t want to hurt Robbe. You don’t want to bring your cold to his doorstep.

But you don’t want to freeze, either. You want to live. You want- someday- to be warm again.

The door opens, and it’s a man you don’t know. He has a slightly confused look in his eyes and a warm orange sweater and for a moment you shiver, imagining how warm that must be.

“I’m sorry,” you say, stumbling back a step, “I was just looking for-”

But your words choke off. You can’t say his name. Your lips freeze on his name, and suddenly you feel like you’re freezing. You're going cold.

This was all a mistake, wasn’t it? Coming here, when you know that you’re unwanted. When you know that you broke Robbe’s heart with the Instagram posts with Britt. When you know that all you can do is freeze and break people.

So you turn and start to head away. Maybe go back to that skatepark. To be honest, you’re not entirely sure.

“Wait a moment,” the man says, voice gentle, and you stop. “That black eye- where’d you get it?”

You swallow, throat dry because you’ve barely eaten or drank over the past few days, and turn around.

 _A fight,_ you want to say, but the words get stuck in your throat, because it’s not true, because all you did was kiss a boy who made you feel warm and loved for the first time in years and you got beaten up for it.

“Fuck,” the man curses softly without you even needing to respond, eyes going wide, “You’re Robbe’s Sander, aren’t you?”

Tears start to burn at the back of your eyes. You’re not Robbe’s anything, not anymore. You haven’t been since you broke his heart with a kiss and an Instagram post.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, unable to summon anything else, “I just came to ask- I mean I just-”

Your words are stumbling over themselves as you try to find a way to, well, you don’t know. A way to run away? A way to reach out? A way to explain? You can’t fucking figure it out.

Then the man steps forward and you flinch back and-

He’s hugging you. Pulling you to his chest. Holding you gently and hugging you in a way you can’t remember ever being hugged- like a parent might.

And you can’t hold back your tears. You sob into his chest, this flatmate of Robbe’s, this man you’ve never met before, because you’ve been holding it in for ten years and you can’t hold it back anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, and he just holds you.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he says, voice softer and warmer than anyone’s has been in years, and it breaks something in you, a little, in a somehow good way, like resetting a broken bone.

You stand there for a few long moments, held in his warm embrace, and you don't know him, but for this one moment in time it doesn't matter, because no one's ever been this gentle. No one's ever been this kind, save Robbe, and you kind of fucked that one up, didn't you?

Someone lets out a small, strangled gasp behind you, and you flinch out of the man’s arms. You turn around to see-

“Fuck,” you say, trying to wipe the tears from your eyes in some desperate attempt to somehow appear normal before the boy whose heart you broke.

“Sander?” Robbe says, quiet voice filled with- concern, maybe? You think that’s what it is, but there’s no way that he’s concerned about you, not when you broke his heart like you did. Not when you were an utter jackass to him.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, and you keep apologizing because you can’t seem to do much else, this afternoon. “I shouldn’t be here-” 

And then you start to run off (run to where, you have no idea, but you have to get away from Robbe), but the man who just hugged you catches the strap of your backpack (the bag with the only clothes you own, now, a measly few shirts and pants and underwear and one pair of socks) and you’re halted for just long enough for Robbe to step forward to stand in front of you, gaze sweeping over you and holding you in place as surely as his flatmate's quickly slackening fingers did.

“Sander?” Robbe says again, voice still quiet, but eyes wide as he looks over you. “You’re wearing the same shirt you were the last time I saw you. That bruise around your eye- it should have healed more by now.”

You flinch, your heart starting to race, because you know he’s going to figure it out. You know he’s going to-

“Sander- you don’t live with your parents, do you?”

You shake your head, because you haven’t lived with them since you were eight. Anyone could find that out with one glance at the foster system’s records.

Then comes the question you really don’t want to answer: “Then where have you been sleeping since I saw you at that party?”

Your throat closes up, your veins freezing, as Robbe’s flatmate lets go of your bag and you are left standing there, not looking either Robbe or his flatmate in the eyes. Despite his hand off of your bag, though, you are still trapped here, unable to escape.

“Sander,” Robbe’s flatmate says, a quiet horror creeping into his voice, “Where have you been living?"

“I’ve been sleeping in the skatepark," you say, and Robbe's flatmate raises a hand to his mouth. You see, somehow, tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes, and you glance away.

"What?" Robbe says, voice shocked despite the fact that he'd figured out the first park of it.

"I'm-" the words are hard to get out, despite the fact that they've been true for so long. "I'm a foster child. I ran away last year. I've been staying with Britt for the past year." The words are coming in fits and short bursts, because you're not used to saying them. You've never said them. And saying them to Robbe, who you don't know how will react? Well, you don't know what will happen. "I broke up with her, the day after the party. And she kicked me out. And..." Your words trail off, because you don't know how to end that story. You don't know what to say.

There is a beat of horrible, cold silence, before Robbe starts to reach out a hand to your face and-

"Stay here," the man blurts, and you and Robbe both snap your heads to him. "We've already got enough people paying rent for now, you're definitely covered for a few weeks and we can work something out in the meantime."

You don't know what to do with this. You don't know how something like this could be possible. "I don't even know-"

"Milan Hendrickx," he says instantly, offering out a hand, "As long as Robbe's willing to share his room, you can stay." There's something almost pleading in his eyes as you shake his offered hand.

You looks to Robbe, something dangerously close to hope rising in your chest. "Are you- are you okay with that?"

Robbe nods vigorously. "Yeah, of course," he says, looking at you like _you're_ the one who's warmth, like you're the one who's somehow going to bring hope.

"Then it's settled," Milan says, and pulls open the door. "C'mon in, boys."

-

You offer to sleep on the floor of Robbe's room, tonight, and he shakes his head, instead gesturing to the open side of the bed. You swallow deep and ask, "You sure?"

Robbe nods. "Of course I am," he says, tone firm in a way you rarely hear it from him but his voice is still so, so warm.

You set your bag down in the corner of his room and you're unsure what to do, now. Robbe pats the bed next to him, and you sit down.

"Robbe, I-" You swallow, trying to get your words back. "Robbe, I'm sorry for what happened. I was trying- I was trying to keep you safe. To keep you away from my shit."

Robbe reaches in and touches your cheek, fingers more gentle and warm than anything you've felt in years. "You didn't have to do that," he says, "We can get through this together, alright? You and I."

"You shouldn't have to get tangled up in my shit," you say, because you don't want him to get hurt. Anything in the world but Robbe getting hurt. "You don't have to keep me-"

Then Robbe leans in and he tenderly kisses the cheek under your bruised eye and your heart is going supernova in your chest but it's not destroying you- no, you are not the dying star but instead the rebirth, warm and new. "You said you loved me," Robbe says, "Just like I said I loved you. You said that love was all that mattered." His eyes go a bit hard as he says: "So I'm holding you to it. You take my shit and I'll take yours. Your backstory and mine. My stupid and your stupid. Just no running away. We've gotta be there for each other."

And, well, you want to believe him. You want nothing more than to believe him. You want nothing more than to fall into his arms and kiss him and believe in hope for once in your fucking life.

And so, staring into the eyes of the boy you love, you do. You kiss him back and take the risk in believing that this, with Robbe and Milan and their other roommates- this will work out.

-

Milan calls you and Robbe out of the room a couple of hours later, and there are two new people in the apartment, now. A blonde girl Milan introduces as Zoe, and a taller boy he introduces as Senne, her boyfriend, both of whom smile at you. They both pull you and Robbe into hugs, though at separate points during the evening.

You're holding Robbe's hand through dinner. You're holding his hand as he tells them who you are and why you're staying here and he is warm, so warm, and so are these other three people, and there is something swelling in your chest, warm and happy.

You fall asleep that night curled up against Robbe, warm for the first time in ages, and for the first time in a long time, it looks like things might still be warm in the morning.


	2. like a wildfire burning up inside my lungs (i'm burning up)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi the writers of the show are still fucking with me so here's a nightmare & hurt/comfort chapter dealing Sander's backstory and also flashback to the pool scene and some cuddles with Robbe because fuck it, I can't handle having to wait for the writers to fix whatever the fuck is going on here.
> 
> Also, title is from "Wildfire" by SYML. You know, that song that played during the pool scene kiss? Because I'm a ho for angsty/comfort songs that speak deeply to the insecurities of both me and the characters I'm writing? Yeah, that one.

This pool is cold, so cold, and you’re bare-ass naked, but you don’t care. Not when Robbe is underwater with you, kissing each other like the world is burning and the only oxygen left is in each other’s lungs.

You remember your mother’s words as she slapped you. _You will never be loved_ , she spat _, and that’s a blessing. Because love only burns you._

Well, Robbe is burning you, but it’s in a good way, the best way, where the cold leeches from your bones until there is only this beautiful boy in front of you, kissing you, and you’re pretty sure you could die happy here in this pool, the breath leaving your lungs before you ever surface-

But you don’t. You and Robbe burst to the surface of the pool and you keep kissing, wet and slippery and the air cold around you, but the points of contact between you burning so hot that it makes the rest of the world fade away.

 _Love only burns you_ , your mother says, your father slamming the door as the lights flash on above the pool, causing you and Robbe to break apart and run off.

 _Love only burns you_ , your mother says, her hand slapping your face as Robbe tells you that you sexually assaulted him and calls you the f-word.

 _Love only burns you_ , your mother says, your last foster family depriving you of dinner for the second straight week in a row as you and Robbe end up on the ground of an alleyway.

Love only burns you, and you are laying crumpled on the ground in alley, Robbe coughing next to you, the world going Chernobyl behind your eyes as your mother’s words sink in, accompanied by a new truth: _Your love only burns those you love._

-

Someone’s shaking you gently awake, their hand on your shoulder, their voice in your ear, and you are still stuck under your mother’s hands, in a foster home, in that alley, on that skatepark bench.

Your eyes are burning with tears as you surface from the dream, expecting to feel a cold metal bench beneath you but instead there’s Robbe, running his fingers through your hair, whispering soothing words into your ears.

“It was all just a dream,” he says with weary eyes but a firm tone and fond smile. “You’re here, with me. In bed. You're safe.”

As you tremble in his arms, trying to recover from the nightmares, you look up into his bright, beautiful eyes, providing the comfort and security you've never gotten before and can't help but smile, fragile as it is, because he's not burning you. No, he's warming you up a little at a time, taking the care to defrost the ice in your veins without making you implode.

He's not Chernobyl, and neither are you. Not here, not now, not when both of you have this room and this family in this flat. Not when you are both working so hard at being better, at being there for each other, at caring and taking care.

Eventually you stop shaking and instead just curl into his arms, comfortable in a way you so rarely remember being, safe in the knowledge that you _are_ safe here, that this love won't burn you, not anymore, because you and Robbe have promised to be there for each other.

Your mother was wrong. Someone _does_ love you, and his love won't burn you and your love won't burn him.

You and Robbe are _both_ going to be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys, I hope you enjoyed! This is my first Skam fic so I hope it was good. Please feel free to leave a comment and/or a kudos if you liked- comments are the lifeblood of the writer, after all!
> 
> Also, I might write a sequel, so stay tuned in!


End file.
